[ When Megatron's large, powerful hand covered his shoulder and half of his back this time, Drift was still. Neither shying away nor being receptive, only resigned to it like it was there to keep him steady. Part of him wanted to forget what passed between them and collapse into whatever comfort the other was capable of offering. Drift was stopped by the bitter awareness it would be one more reminder of who Drift wanted to be here, and why that wasn't possible. ]

I told him everything, you know. Before we answered the distress call that led us to the Necroworld we had a lot of time on our hands and before I knew it I was blurting out every awful little between when we met to when I joined the Autobots. This awkward, verbal exsanguination nearly made me pass out I was so scared of what he would think. Of what I had done, of what you and I used to be.

Do you know what he said? [ Drift looked down, tracing invisible circles on the bar top. Wishing there was a drink in his hand with an offlined FIM chip. The urge to suffocate his inhibitions had been growing as of late. ]

"You don't love in piecemeal."

[ Drift vented with a shuttering, fragile sound like breaking glass. ]

No one's ever cared about me as a whole, and I don't think anyone ever will. If I do this...if I find a way where we're all on the Lost that made it I could be losing the centuries we had together. And if I don't then I'll return to life that's already killing me with new regrets.

Either way this feels like the end of the line for me.